I’m impatient. I don’t know if I’ve always been that way as I believe I can pinpoint the exact event where my lack of patience was at its most noticeable, to me at least.
Ok, so if you were to time travel to that time, zoom into the past with me, you’d see a little girl, just out of the infant’s and into the juniors, offered the exciting opportunity to get her ears pierced. I was BEYOND excited! I couldn’t stop talking about it, I couldn’t stop telling my family “I’m getting my ears pierced today!” I exclaimed.
I counted down minutes to an unspecified time I imagined. I never knew what time this mystical event would happen, I just knew it would. I’d been promised. Parents always keep their promises.
I must have talked this happening up so much people were becoming tired of my tirade, I was informed. Perhaps a family member complained. Perhaps it was all a pipe dream. I was told I’d talked too much about this. I wasn’t having the ears pierced after all. Talking or excitement equalled showing off and that, is unacceptable.
I pleaded. I promised to stop talking about it. I must have really annoyed people with my inane wittering. I was ashamed. I couldn’t face all these people, the same people who is excitedly talked with about the tremendous news of the piercing. But no, it wasn’t going to happen. I’d managed to spoil it all for myself and now, it wasn’t to be.
Today, I’m impatient. I’m waiting on call backs from important questions I will asked of others. I’m impatient waiting for items I’ve ordered. I’m impatient for a future I saw with my partner but we don’t talk about.
I wish I wasn’t, but too much to be impatient about you see.